#here it is!!! | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

a-writing-otter · 1 year ago

Text

All Fire, No Heat

(follow link to read on AO3)

Astarion weathers his lower lip between his teeth as he gazes across the fire. Karlach is sitting close to Wyll, regaling him with her side of a famous clash with the Blade of Frontiers as he, for everyone else’s benefit, corrects with the actual events.

This little… whatever of Astarion and Karlach’s isn’t so weak that it flickers at the fact she’s talking to Wyll with an arm around him, that’s just Karlach. No, his attention is far more rapt on the way she tells the story.

She talks often about Avernus in that shallow, barely-there way that most of them talk about their lives. Karlach cracks jokes and blushes past the depths of her horrors, but Astarion knows. Oh, Astarion knows someone who’s faced the cruelty of the universe and come out broken and he smells it on her charred skin. But the horrors she speaks about tonight aren’t ones committed to her, they’re things she’s done.

Weeks together and he knows how to read between the lines. She’s talking rather openly, but keeping it light, playful banter that she passes between her and Wyll. It’s not her words that intrigue Astarion, but rather how she says it.

In the low light of the fire, juxtaposed with the dark of the night, Karlach glows. Well, quite literally, her ports sputtering and smoking as her excitement mounts, but in addition, her teeth are shining, eyes gleaming like a predator and something is beginning to connect in his head. He suddenly sees her as a beast, a creature bent low, the last thing seen before the embrace of the void with dripping maw and scraping claw.

And it clicks—she truly was the Fury of Avernus, Advocatus Diaboli, the Right Hand of Death.

When she glances up, turns that dark, ferocious gaze on Astarion and winks at him, Astarion feels his breath hitch.

While he’s a rather formidable foe for near every person he’s cornered, it’s not a new concept that he can’t win every fight. And he knows, objectively, he might lose a fight against a number of his cohorts, but looking at her, seeing the way she looks at him, imagining what she’d look like to others, Astarion knows he would have no chance against her. That concept makes his skin prickle, his throat feel dry, and something ache in his pants.

It isn’t terribly long before they all decide to retire, petering off one by one. Astarion leaves relatively early into the dispersal as watching Karlach grow more and more animated makes Astarion feel crazy, but his eyes don’t stray far from the campfire. Karlach and Shadowheart are the last to leave, the former gravitating towards Astarion’s tent in a way that has started to feel familiar.

“Can I help you with something?” he asks without looking up from the tome he’s been pretending to read, fighting to keep his voice even and his thoughts forward.

“Oh, I think so.” He can see her standing there from the corner of his eyes, bobbing on the balls of her feet (the damned woman really can’t stand still), something expectant on her features. It’s no wonder that Astarion can’t see her as the terror she used to be when she’s this godsdamned cute. To call it an act is uncharitable, Karlach truly is sweet and kind and warm, but tonight he’s been gifted a chance to see beneath it. It’s hard to square away the beast in the fire from the doe-eyed woman who’s looking down at him, eyes soft and lips tilted into that small, secret smile she reserves for him.

“And what might that ‘something’ be?” Astarion asks.

Karlach lets herself wander closer now, stepping into his space until she’s towering over him, the smile on her face doing just as much for Astarion as the flash of her teeth had. She gets close, but doesn’t touch—she never touches until Astarion instigates it.

In the beginning, it’d been frustrating, had wrapped around to endearing, but now it’s a touch frustrating again. After a lifetime of people clawing, pawing, gripping Astarion whether he liked it or not, it’s nice to have someone who asks, someone who cares, but in the same breath, now that his discomfort at her touch has turned to craving, her asking almost becomes a chore.

Almost.

“Is it this?” Astarion asks, raising a hand to hook it into the strap of her top, pulling her down as he leans up. She’s warm, he does feel that, and the pressure of her lips against his own makes his spine tingle. He can taste ale on her breath, a bitter sort of accompaniment to her otherwise oaky, burning taste.

When he pulls away, Karlach doesn’t go far, her forehead resting against his and he can’t help but to smile at her in return as they linger there together.

“You were terribly animated tonight,” Astarion says, breaking the quiet they’d wrapped themselves in.

“Oh? That?” Karlach laughs. “It’s Wyll’s fault, the right bastard. He starts spouting his ‘shite about his time in the Hells and someone has to right him.”

“And that someone is you, beloved?”

He sees Karlach’s skin glow a little brighter at that pet name and he can’t help but to chuckle in response.

“Well, I was the only one there!” Karlach clears her throat and starts to pull away, but Astarion puts a hand on her arm, keeps her close.

“The way you talked about your time in Avernus was fascinating, your behavior almost terrifying.”

“I’d never act like that towards you—“ she immediately goes to defend, voice a touch panicked.

“I didn’t say I didn’t like it.”

Karlach falters for a moment as she tries to piece together what was just said. From here on out, he knows he has to tread lightly.

“What an awe-inspiring foe you must have been,” Astarion continues. “The Fury of Avernus, hm? The name alone must have inspired reactions, good and bad. What kind of terror were you?”

“I— Well, I—“

Karlach’s hands are a little uncertain on Astarion’s waist, like she’s not sure if she wants to pull away. Astarion takes the hand not holding her top to traipse fingers up and down her bicep, tracing the natural line of her skin while clearly avoiding the ports there.

“My name carried weight,” she starts slowly. “If that’s what you’re asking.”

Astarion hums, encouraging.

“Even the great ‘Blade of Frontiers’ had reason to fear you. I’ve seen the glint in your eyes before, the way you bare your teeth. Sometimes I see why people mistook you for a devil.”

When he feels Karlach tense, he’s afraid he’s stepped too far.

“Devils are terrible damned things.”

“Yes, yes. Horrible,” Astarion agrees. “And you waded through them like they were nothing, didn’t you? They must have had nightmares about you, you the story that they breathed to one another in their camps, promises that if they saw you, you’d be the last that they’d see.”

He’s close to her now, speaking against her throat. It’s only recently he’s gotten the benefit of tasting her ichor, body safe enough to take from burning, smoky blood, heady like he remembers a good whiskey tasting. There’s solace to be had in the fact that she’s shuddering, that her breath hitches ever so slightly as lips and teeth and tongue tickle a place she’s so sensitive.

“I… had a way with them,” she begins, Astarion seeing how she’s feeling out the words and where he’s going with this. “I could be cruel, oh, gods, I could be so damn cruel. It wasn’t always my axe that did them in. Plenty of times I was without it and had to make do with my bare hands.”

Now it’s Astarion’s turn to shudder.

“You were ruthless.”

“Bloodthirsty.” And this time Astarion sighs which makes Karlach laugh, though it’s quiet, like she’s trying to keep it between them.

“Were you that way with yours lovers, too?”

Kalarch hums and he imagines she’s seeing the through line. Her hands are suddenly firm on his hips, gripping tight enough to bruise, were Astarion able to. The pressure is all the same and he feels his stomach flip in response.

“Is that it? You’re looking for something a little more… forceful?”

“I’m looking for anything you can give me.”

And Astarion knows she can give him so much, wants to give him so much. He’s waited for her for so long and he’ll wait for her longer. Never before has he had the build up before the taste. So much of being with Karlach had been patience and restraint and it had been nice, but now? Now, he wants reckless abandon.

Her hand comes up off of the bruising grip of his waist to wrap around his throat. Both of his hands come up, grip her arm out of instinct, but there’s no panic. He trusts her. Oh, he trusts her with his everything. So when she squeezes, he feels his stomach flip and hears a keening noise escape that takes a moment to register is him.

“I can give you anything,” she purrs, a low rumble to her voice that makes Astarion absolutely throb. “But what about what I want to take?”

“Y-You—“ Astarion pants, licking his dry lips with drier tongue. “You think you can take it from me?”

And when she tightens her grip, a masterful hold on his jugular with her middle finger and thumb, Astarion can’t help the way that he full-on moans, especially when she pulls him, lifting him onto his toes and closer to her face.

“I don’t think you could stop me.”

It’s how he ends up in his tent, down against the bedding, Karlach’s tongue in his mouth and her body pinning his down. She’s always been stronger than him, but this feels different. Karlach is cutting off his air with her strong hand, grinding her knee into his crotch in a way that has him wordlessly begging for her. She doesn’t even seem to care that he’s coming apart at the seams as she pulls back, mouth a red, wet mess.

“Oh, look at you,” she taunts, squeezing his throat and laughing when he gurgles. “There’s nothing you can do, is there? Just lying there, taking it. Gods, you’re so pathetic.”

And he claws at her hand, trying and fighting to find air or form words, but elated at the fact he’s helpless to do anything. He feels pathetic like this, tears pricking his eyes as he writhes beneath her.

“Held down and captive, yet you’re getting hard. I can feel it, love. You’re grinding into my knee. Do you need it that bad that you’re prostrating yourself for your captor?”

Yes, yes, yes! He does need it that bad and he needs it from her, gods, he only ever needs it from her. He bucks his hips, grinding into her knee and when she pushes down further, harder, sharper, he bucks and cries, swearing he could cum on the spot just from this.

Karlach shifts her weight, pushes down harder on his throat and his head starts swimming. It’s not the lack of air that’s doing him in, it’s the pressure and the voice and the cut off of blood he’s drank no longer swimming through his veins. Her blood, held back by her hand: he sees the irony in it.

“Are you that depraved that you’ll cum like this? Not even touched, not even relieved, just in your pants like some desperate whore?”

He doesn’t even want to deny it. If she talks at him like this, strings him out, he will cum and be as pathetic as she or anyone else has seen him. While he pretends to be better, he knows better—Astarion is pathetic beneath it all.

“Go on, then,” she baits. “If you’re so damned desperate, show me.”

He stares at her, vision swimming with tears as she cocks an eyebrow at him. Swallowing thickly, he feels her thick fingers on his throat and gasps beneath it. She’s not moving her knee anymore, holds it stationary against his crotch and, when he bucks, she doesn’t lean into it.

Oh, she actually means it.

He lifts and lowers his hips, rubbing against her knee like some kind of dog in heat. Over and over, he gyrates against her. His breath is coming in pants as a bastardized pleasure crawls through his body. He’s leaking into his pants, against her knee, but he can’t stop. She’s laughing at him, flexing her fingers to remind him who’s in charge, who’s the one controlling him. All he can do is pant and whine and continue to grind his cock against her.

He croaks out, tries to give her some kind of warning, but the grip on his throat has made his head fuzzy and pleasure made his tongue useless.

“Oh, already? Gods, you can’t even hold it together. If you’re that fucking worthless, spray like a bitch, then. I told you to show me.”

He pants, moves his hips faster and sharper, the rough fabric of his pants grating against his cock, but Karlach is staring down her nose at him and tightening her fingers and her knee is firm and— and— and—!

Astarion’s back arches as he humps her leg, cumming against her as he dirties himself for her pleasure. He knows it’s going to stain his clothes, that it’ll take awhile to clean out, but all he can do is pant as he pumps his hips weakly before falling back.

When his vision clears, he sees her annoyed, critical stare. If it wasn’t for the thumb stroking over his pulse point, the other hand rubbing his sternum, he’d think she was serious. Even in her pretend, she has to remind him she still care for him and that makes him smile a bit.

“What’re you grinning at?” She sneers. “You think you’re done? Might be so useless you can’t keep your cock up to let me fuck myself, but it doesn’t mean you’re free. Get up.”

She gets off of him and this, this, is his favorite part. Karlach gets on her knees, hooks her thumbs into the top of her pants and starts to slide them down.

His mouth fills with saliva, his belly with want, and all he can do is gaze as she puts herself on display. She’s a woman carved of muscle, her firm stomach, thick thighs, and powerful arms all rendering most useless, but his eyes fasten instead on the bush of hair surrounding her pussy, wet and wanting just from the display that Astarion’s put on.

It takes effort not to immediately try and dive his face into there, but he knows better with the way Karlach’s been barking orders. She strips her pants and sits back, legs closed while his eyes focus on what he can’t quite see. He looks up to see her bored expression, ruined only by the way she’s weathering her lip in the way she does when he’s between her legs and she’s wanting more.

“Come here. No—“ Astarion stumbles to a stop, on one knee and halfway up before falling back.

“Crawl to me.”

Gods, if that doesn’t make his spent cock twitch again. He lowers himself, on his hands and knees, dragging himself to where she’s sitting ramrod straight, legs out in front of her and crossed at the ankles. He frames her legs, looking up at her while she continues to stare down at him critically. Through it, though, he can smell her want, can see the dilation of her pupils, and he knows she’s enjoying this.

She brings her legs up to her chest then draws one onto one side of Astarion and then the other. He doesn’t dare break eye contact they’re holding, but he can’t help the quiet noise that escapes as he’s suddenly bathed in the scent of her sex. Once again, his mouth waters, enough this time that drool escapes down his chin.

“Clean it up.”

He blinks, eyes sliding back into focus as he stares at her, confused.

“You heard me. Clean it up.”

Finally, he glances down, sees the splatter of saliva on the tent between her legs. There’s hesitation there and Astarion opens his mouth to make some kind of catty comment when there’s suddenly a fist in his hair and his mouth and nose are shoved against the ground.

He means to complain.

He moans.

His tongue lolls uselessly out of his mouth, spreading more of his mess onto the floor as Karlach clicks her tongue.

“Fucking useless, can’t even do a damned thing I tell you right. For fuck’s sake—”

He’s dragged back up, his mouth and chin a mess as Karlach searches him with a critical eye. There’s a growl that escapes as he’s jerked around again by his hair, this time ending up on his back, looking up at her.

“Can’t even trust you to use your mouth correctly.”

No, no, she can’t. God, he can’t say the last time he’s had a partner get him this strung out, degraded and humiliated, all for their taking.

Well, he can—

His mind starts to sharpen slightly before she pulls on his hair again and forces him to look up at her. His vision sharpens on her, radiance and death all in one, a perfect red sun on a dull horizon, like another.

“Karlach?” he croaks with something like a tremble in his voice that she must understand is not arousal because her hand comes up, sweeps across his cheekbone. There’s a momentary crack in the facade as they meet each other’s gaze. She does understand. Karlach bends low, foreheads together for a moment and Astarion breathes in deep, trying to soothe the knot in his chest. Her earthy scent washes over his pallet and the places in his memory that were sharpening, stabbing into the softness of the moment start to dull. And when she raises her head to kiss his brow, his nose, and then his lips, he smiles at her in return. Astarion’s hand comes up and he squeezes her hand still holding his face, the pair sharing a nod before he lies back and her expression returns hard and haughty, the switch so instantaneous that it makes Astarion shiver again.

His hand comes up and before they sink into it, his fingers catch on her top and he pulls slightly. Karlach looks down at it and then at Astarion who offers her a cheeky smile.

The way she rolls her eyes and how her lips twitch is nothing short of affectionate. She knocks his hand away and takes a second to slide the top off, now completely bare for his gaze. Astarion feels his cock twitch, but Karlach pays it no mind.

“So damned fucking demanding. Demanding a lot for someone who can’t do shit for himself.”

He reaches out for her again, but she takes both of his wrists into one large hand, pinning them above his head.

“Oh, I don’t think I can trust you with those,” says Karlach. “You had the time to prove you were worth something and you left me fucking cold, so now I’m taking you out of the picture.”

He turns his head to see where she’s holding a vibrant red toy phallus. It’d been an... investment of sorts, one that the poor smithy probably wishes he knew less about, but one they haven’t used as much since they found Dammon and were able to get Karlach a proper tuneup. Well, not on her, at least.

She holds it up, makes sure that Astarion catches full view of it before she releases his wrists and reaches behind herself. Astarion doesn’t have to be told not to move to keep himself still, far too enraptured by what he’s watching happen.

Karlach props her hand against the floor. With the hand holding the phallus, she brings it in front of her and between her legs. A soft, feathery sound escapes as she rubs the head of it against her clit. Astarion watches, enraptured, as it dips between her folds, Karlach grinding against the toy in slow, steady motions that cover it in her own juices.

He whines for every moan that escapes her, watching as her own pleasure mounts. While he would be so content to watch her grind herself to completion, he knows that Karlach is too invested in putting on a show, almost as much of an attention whore as Astarion is. The toy creeps back further and further until Karlach lifts herself up onto her knees, lines up, and then sinks back down.

They moan in unison as Karlach takes the phallus into her, slick covering her hand and now pooling onto the stomach of Astarion’s shirt. His fingers scrape above his head uselessly as he watches her.

“You like it?” She’s breathless sounding as she starts to ride the toy, its red length disappearing and reappearing with every stroke. Astarion’s eyes are focused on the way her pussy hugs onto it, makes room for it and then tightens up when it’s no longer inside of her. He nods mutely.

“This could have been you. Fuck, you would have liked that, wouldn’t you, fangs? Your cock in my cunt, filling me up, feeling how tight I am. Not a lot of folks can say they’ve fucked a girl like me.”

And Astarion nods again. He loves it, loves when she lets him fuck her. But tonight, he’s not for that. He’s for lying back, watching as she fucks herself over and over, the wet sound of the toy pounding into her hole making him harder. Her scent is all around him and he wishes she was dripping down his chin, that he’d been good enough for her earlier to feel her cum on his tongue. And yet…

“Oh, but you like this, don’t you?” Karlach looks over her shoulder and laughs at what she sees. “Fuck, getting hard watching me fuck myself. Here.”

And she arches her back and spreads her legs wide, pussy on full display from its dark red, swollen clit, to its puffy lips spread apart, to the hole sucking on the toy inside as she pounds it deep. Her other hand comes up as she starts to stroke her own clit, her voice getting loud. Both hands are soaked with her own slick before long as she pants and moans. He doesn’t miss the way she says his name, a crack in the armor of the game they’re playing.

“Do you like this, Astarion? That you’re— you’re my toy, that I— I get to decide what you’re good for. You like being my— my bitch. You’re my fucking bitch. Shit, I—“

She’s pumping her hips now, pushing herself further onto the toy as she furiously strokes her clit. He sees her pulsing around it, can smell the way she’s close. Her voice is getting higher, her movements messy, and Astarion is whining with her. He is her bitch and her bitch wants her to cum for him. He can’t say it, can only stare at her, and look at her glistening pussy while he drools on himself.

Karlach bends low and fucks the toy, head against Astarion’s as she growls and grits. And then all at once, she whines, whole body spasming with Astarion’s name hugged in her cries. Astarion’s body burns, his cock aching, and he swears he almost cums untouched just from hearing and seeing her.

Then they’re both there, panting and wheezing for a moment as Karlach comes down from her high. When she lifts her head, her chest is glowing blue, the light shining on both of their faces. Her expression is soft and he doubts she can help it when she leans forward and kisses him.

It’s quick as she regains herself and sits up, sweeping the hair from her face with her free hand as she pulls the phallus out of her pussy. The toy glitters with her juices and Astarion doesn’t bother hiding his hunger as he licks his lips.

Karlach looks at him, tilts her head slightly as a wicked smile crosses her face. She takes his jaw in her hand and pushes at the space between his teeth through his cheeks, opening his mouth. Wordlessly, she feeds the soiled toy into his mouth and Astarion whines as he greedily takes it in. Even through the taste of the toy, her taste it divine. His tongue swirls around it as he eagerly sucks it clean, eyes focused on Karlach’s face, watching her watch him.

“Good boy,” she soothes, massaging his jaw as she slowly starts to work the toy in and out of his mouth. Astarion falls into the pattern of sucking it off without qualm, cheeks hollowing and filling every time she pushes it in. It’s a slow, methodical sort of motion and, before he knows it, it’s filling his throat, its base to his lips as she gazes adoringly up at Karlach.

“Hold it there,” she orders, letting it go. Astarion is quick to obey, holding it for her as she gets off of him.

He’s hardly aware of what’s going on until he feels a coolness on his skin. Still wearing his shirt, he’s been relieved of his pants and underwear, heavy cock hard and curled against his stomach.

Karlach pokes at it with a bare foot and he whines around the toy, humping the air.

“No, no, you’re not using that for anything tonight,” she chides, walking the length of his body and turning around so he sees her ass and tail. Reaching back, she takes the toy and he pants slightly, eyes on the web of saliva connecting his spread lips and the toy.

Standing above him, he’s got a perfect view of when she pushes the toy back inside of herself with a luxurious sort of sigh.

There’s a moment of confusion as he assumes he’s going to watch her fuck herself again, but this time, she sits and straddles his chest and he feels it poke into his sternum. Quickly, the toy is forgotten as she leans forward, her ass in his face as she grabs his legs and pulls them back towards his chest until he’s bent in half, cock now deliciously pressed between her tits and his legs over her shoulders. In spite of that, he can’t help but feel a little silly, ass in the air, Karlach on his chest, the toy inside of her poking him. His vision is cutoff by her figure, but some things start to suddenly click as something wet and warm lands on his asshole, belatedly realizing it’s saliva. He lets out a curious note and then feels something shift on his chest, Karlach sighing as he realizes she’s fucking herself once, twice, three times with the toy and then pulls it out.

“Bitches don’t do anything but give whatever is asked of them,” Karlach informs as he feels the head of the dripping wet toy, wet with her slick, circle his wet asshole. Immediately, he’s twitching and pulsing, not sure if he’s trying to push her out or suck her in when he realizes what she’s about to do.

“I— I don’t know if—“ He begins, but suddenly Karlach shifts her weight back and suddenly her pussy is on his face. Like a child latching onto a bottle, his mouth opens, his tongue flicks out, and he’s wrapping his lips around her hole, pushing his tongue inside of her. The sigh she lets loose only encourages him as he starts to fuck her with his tongue.

When the toy starts to push inside of him, he’s almost too distracted to care. It’s tight and uncomfortable, but he feels her slick dribbling down the toy and onto his skin and the idea that she’s pushing herself inside of him makes him comply. There’s no delicacy to this tonight, Karlach bottoms out inside of him and Astarion’s toes curl in delight. As much as he loves when he gets to fuck her, Astarion is just as delighted as when she fucks him.

They both settle into it as Karlach moves the toy in and out of his ass, spitting on it every now and then to ease the way, but Astarion taking a bit too much relish in the pain and what that’ll mean tomorrow. Karlach herself seems to be getting into it as she drops her weight, smothering his face and rocking against him as she idly rides his tongue.

Astarion is hardly present anymore, sucking and lapping and moaning against Karlach’s cunt as she continues to fuck him. Every now and then she’ll dictate orders—“Come on, I shouldn’t have to tell you to suck my clit.” “Fucking useless, stick your tongue back in.” “Lift your chin, if you’re going to make me do all the work.”—and all Astarion has to do is listen. He’s floating in the moment, hardly able to do anything other than be taken completely by the Fury of Avernus. All he can do is be a passive body as she grinds against his mouth and nose, using him for her pleasure while she continues to fuck his hole and otherwise take him from the equation.

He knows she’s playing dirty when her hand moves, the angle shifts, and suddenly the ruthless pounding of the toy is hot on the core of his pleasure. Astarion sobs into her pussy and tries to move, tries to bounce on the toy, but all he can do is wiggle pathetically as she keeps him in place. In his haze, he tries to plead, tries to say her name, tries to beg, but all he can do is wiggle his lips and cry under her. He’s completely as her mercy and that reality would usually terrify him, but now, it’s got him completely boneless and passive.

“Did I find it?” Karlach taunts, fucking that spot harder, the base of the toy slapping against his asshole with a percussive noise that echoes in their tent and likely the camp. “Is this the spot my bitch wants me to fuck him at?”

She lifts her hips off of his face and Astarion wants to complain, but all he can do is lie back, tongue lolling out, and eyes shut as he pants, focusing on where Karlach is fucking him.

“I asked you a question,” she snaps, pushes the toy in deep and grinds it against his prostate. Astarion cries out, back arches, and all at once, it’s over. His hole is hugging the toy, spasming around it as he holds it deep against his core, his own cock Karlach so repetitively called useless sprays all over their stomachs, and Astarion sobs like a child before going completely limp.

Belatedly, he feels his legs and ass come back into contact with the ground in a gentle sway, the toy still inside of him pushed that much deeper, releasing a whimper from Astarion. Then he feels a hand come down between his legs, hears a grunt and keening noise, and as he opens his eyes, he sees Karlach’s cunt right in his line of sight, her hand furiously working her clit over as she lets the high heavens hear her thoughts about fucking herself. He wants to help more than he has the words to say, but he’s unable to do anything other than stare.

It’s not a long stare since Karlach quickly goes rigid, he sees her body tremble in another wave of pleasure, and then she falls to her knees and elbows.

Panting reverberates in the tent for a few minutes as they both come back to themselves. Astarion, despite cumming first both times, is still in a boneless pile by the time that Karlach is twisting around. He can’t do more than whine when he’s pushed and prodded, but when his face ends up between her breasts, her hand in his hair, and her body against his, he can’t help but feel content.

They lie like that for days, months even.

Or, rather, several minutes before Astarion is able to lift his head just enough to look at Karlach. Who’s smiling at him, expectantly.

“That was fine,” he dismisses her unasked question, stretching his arms above his head and turning so he can lie on his back. A quick glance to the side earns him an affronted looking Karlach before his lifts his arm and, like a wild cat, she pounces to lay on his chest.

“‘That was fine’. Fucking bullshit,” she gripes. “You were completely into it and were completely starstruck to be pushed around.”

He makes a balking sound at her only for her to grip his face and force her to look at him. Her grip is hard and his mouth closes with a ‘snap’ of his teeth. Karlach holds him in a harsh gaze before she breaks and laughs.

“Damn, if I knew you were that into me fucking you, I’d have done it sooner!”

“You have fucked me before,” he points out, shifting so he can remove the toy phallus from his ass.

“Yeah, but, you know, not like that.”

When he looks up, he sees Karlach looking pensive, away from him.

“What is it, darling?”

Karlach doesn’t meet his gaze, instead burrows down further into his chest as she wraps her arms tight around his waist, hugging him close. It’s moments like these that Astarion remembers that she cares about him. She really, truly cares.

“You know I don’t think any of that shit about you, right? The ‘useless’ and ‘pathetic’ and stuff?”

He lets out a huff before wrapping his arms around her shoulders, kissing her broken horn.

“No, Karlach, I don’t think you think any of that.”

One day, he’ll find the words to tell her what she means to him. One day he’ll tell her that he feels safe, she makes him feel safe in a way he’s never been before. Maybe it’ll be poetic, maybe it’ll be while she’s drunk and he’s feeling vulnerable, or maybe, just maybe, it’ll be in some meadow with flowers and birds and he can give her a scrap of the romance she deserves, that she’s always deserved, but has been robbed of by the likes of Gortash and Zariel.

He knows his time in the sun is limited to when they remove the tadpoles (and they have to remove the tadpoles), but he wants to spend every golden minute with her until they both burn up and their ashes can be mingled together.

And one day he’ll find a way to say that.

But tonight, he pushes at her slightly and smiles when she whines.

“Get up, I’m not sleeping covered in dried fluids.”

Karlach groans loud and annoying, flinging her limbs all over him again and again until he’s forced to pin her down to get out from under her. And, after tonight, he knows that she’s letting him win.

“If you’re terribly kind and behave, I’ll bring you a towel so you don’t even have to move,” Astarion offers, looking her in the eyes.

Karlach pauses and he knows what she’s doing, her gaze flickering over his face little by little, taking in his lips, his nose, his eyes, the points of his ears and the points of his teeth. Before, it’d made him feel exposed and gawked at, but now he’s understanding that it’s her horribly sappy way of committing this, committing him, to her memory.

“Don’t take too long,” she relents.

“And spend a minute longer away from you than necessary.” He kisses her palm when she touches his face again, offering her a quiet, genuine smile of his own. “I’d sooner face off with the Fury of Avernus.”

Astarion walks towards the river with a towel, the sound of Karlach’s laughter ringing in his ears and his dead heart terribly, wonderfully full.

#bg3 #baldurs gate 3 #hellspawn #karlach x astarion #astarion x karlach #Karlach bg3 #Astarion bg3 #karlach cliffgate #astarion acunin #my writing #I did it! !’#here it is!!!#I hope you like it :3

32 notes · View notes